Tonight we're gonna Party Like it's 1699
by teaandcharcoalforbreakfast
Summary: Adult!US decides that he wants to role play being Colony!US again with England. They end up having a good time, but I am going to hell. I hope you're all happy. Deanon from kink meme. Smut, role play of parent/child incest


**Warning: roleplay of parent/child incest**

Yet another deannon, and with some squick this time! The prompt was that America wants to roleplay being a colony again with daddy kink.

Going to go hide for shame now.

* * *

><p>America looked down at England, collapsed on his chest and still basking in the afterglow of their recent lovemaking. Normally, if America was even bothering to look over instead of closing his eyes and enjoying the absolute bliss, he'd be paying attention to how pretty England was: the pinkness all over his face and chest, the way that his ash blond hair stuck to his forehead because of the sweat, the sinewy strength of his limbs and how relaxed every muscle was. However, this time he was too anxious and just gnawed on the inside of his cheek.<p>

"_Come on, dude, pull yourself together! Heroes aren't supposed to get nervous!" _

Of course, what was _supposed _to happen didn't usually happen when love was involved. His request was just so weird. Over the years, England had put forth many suggestions of how to spice up their love life (three that stood out were the tin foil, the ostrich plumes, and the kitchen whisk although they had both sworn not to speak of the last one again. Ever), but it had never been anything like this before. Yes, they had done historical role play before (Two of their favorite games were Pirate!England taking America captive and Paranoid!America forcing England to prove he wasn't a commie. With buttsex. Because that totally makes sense, but it made England happy and gave America a chance to top the hell out of his lover so whatever), but none of those had that element of _wrongness _that couldn't be removed_. _

It would be better if he just kept his mouth shut. This was the kind of stuff you secretly jerked off about when your boyfriend was an ocean away and you needed something to keep yourself busy with. It was the kind of stuff you dreamed of doing when your lover grabbed you by your tie during a break at a meeting and said, "What sort of filthy, dirty thing do you want tonight, boy? Because I want to attempt levels of sodomy that will make the devil himself cringe." It wasn't the kind of shit you actually did!

But then England looked over with all sorts of concern on his face and said, "What's wrong, love? You look worried."

"I..." He looked away, "I donno, babe."

"You don't even know what you're thinking?" he propped himself up on his elbows, which were kind of pointy and dug into America's chest, "I didn't think you were quite _that _stupid."

America scowled, "I'm _not. _It's just that I..." he took a deep breath, it was okay. He was _America. _Still, he felt heat creeping up onto his cheeks,"I wanna try something tomorrow night."

"Alright," England pushed forward so that his face was only a few inches from America's, a devilish smirk appearing on his face, "What is it?"

He made eye contact with England, just for some reassurance. The other man was eager to hear the idea. Of course, kinky old bastard would have probably been happy to try damn near anything. _This _though…

Oh, come on. It was _England. _They'd been together for sixty years, and although sometimes it seemed like they'd break up and get back together for no reason (except for maybe the glorious makeup sex), they really did love each other. For all England talked down about America's culture, people, behavior, weight and everything else, even Italy could tell he didn't mean it. It was obvious that England loved everything about him, even though it probably wasn't quite as obvious as how much America loved him back. But it'd be okay. Even if England refused to do it, things would still be alright. America still flatly refused to cut him, England didn't have to-

"I want us to pretend I'm a colony again," America said.

England furrowed his impressive brow, "Would you repeat that? It almost sounded like you said..."

"I did."

England just stared. America was afraid for a moment that the other man was staring at him, dumbfounded by how he could ask something like that, but he realized England was staring more or less through him. Right now it was just shock on his lover's face, eyes wide and moth slightly agape. However, slowly his jaw closed, his brows went together again and his bottom lip stuck out in almost a pout. He was obviously giving this thought.

"How young?" He finally asked.

America blinked, "You know, I never really thought about it. Didn't think I'd get this far," he admitted, "I'll take whatever age you want."

"Not younger than thirteen or so," England said slowly, as though still considering it, "I want you at least pubescent."

"Okay," America said, "That sounds good," he smiled, "Dear God, I didn't think you'd say yes!"

"I haven't yet!" England snapped, "This one we're going to have to spend a lot of time talking about beforehand to make sure that we don't trigger anything."

America frowned, "If you can't do this, just say no. It's fine; I'm not gonna hold it against you."

"No," the older nation shook his head, "Actually, this could be fun. It's just... You probably don't clearly remember when you were very young, but I do. I remember perfectly the time when you were young and innocent and I was already… like this. I'm afraid that if we're not careful, I'll... besmirch something."

Part of the larger man wanted to point out that having sex with a grown up America wasn't gonna hurt any memories of a baby America, but he didn't. One of the things England had pounded into his head when their relationship had taken a turn for the kinkier is to accept barriers or triggers without question, no matter how odd or stupid they seemed. America still remembered one time long ago when England wanted to fuck America on the flag. He _really _didn't want to, but didn't want to seem weak. It was not a good night. At all.

So instead, he stroked the other man's hair and said, "Do what you've gotta do. You can sleep on it and we'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"

"I'd rather just sleep on you," England muttered, burrowing his face in America's chest.

America laughed, "Whatever works for ya buddy."

* * *

><p>The next day, America found himself sprawled across one of the couches of his Virginia plantation pretending to be asleep. England was at a rocking chair by the hearth, working on his embroidery. At the moment he was finishing up a silk pillowcase that he said he was going to give to Japan for Christmas. It was beautiful, covered in cherry blossoms and roses. America didn't feel jealous at all. Nope. Of course, England would probably be giving him something extra awesome since they were lo-<p>

Family. They were family for the afternoon. Well, they'd be lovers too soon enough, but America needed to stay in character. You'd think he would remember that, since England had actually agreed to pretend that their relationship was one of parent and child instead of adopted brothers.

America heard the chair creek followed by footsteps approaching. The floorboards made a soft noise as England's weight shifted. A warm, slightly calloused hand fell gently on America's cheek.

"Did you fall asleep, my darling?" England whispered.

America let out a fake snore. He wasn't sure at this point if he was pretending to be asleep or pretending to pretend to be asleep.

"My lord how you've grown," the older nation continued, "It's so hard to see you almost a man. I remember when you were so small you could curl up on my chest. And now," he sighed, "You're lovely. You're _so_ lovely. Sin as it may be, I can't help but want you," the chapped lips that America knew so well descended upon his forehead for a moment, but when England spoke again he was still talking against America's skin, "Please forgive me, my child."

"There's nothing to forgive," America said.

He didn't have to open his eyes to see the look of shock on England's face. There was creaking all over the place as England scrambled to his feet, "Look, I don't know how much you heard, but forget it. I didn't really mean-"

"So you don't like me back?" America sat up and opened his eyes to see England staring at him, eyes wide with awe, hand clapped over his mouth, and a tiny cute blush on his cheeks. The younger nation wanted to tease him for it, but it'd be too out of character.

"'B-Back?'" England repeated, fingers still covering his lips.

"Yeah, that's what I said," America stood.

"America, we can't," England said, "We're family. Family can't-"

"We're nations!" America shouted, cutting him off, "Family doesn't mean anything. Did you forget about how France keeps trying to molest you and me and Canada?"

"Do not compare me to that _frog, _America." England glared at him and balled his hands into fists, "And use proper grammar while you're at it."

Oh god, America hadn't heard that tone in over two-hundred years. That "you're my charge and I need to teach you everything about everything," voice. It was almost enough to make America jizz in his pants right there. Almost, but not quite.

"But that's how it works, isn't it? None of us are really that related, and there's no one else anyway. If you want me, shouldn't that be enough?" he took a few steps forward and bent so he could place his head upon England's chest and look up with a pout, "And you _do _want me, right?"

"I do," England admitted, wrapping his hands around America's head, "Much more than I should. Dammit, boy, I _raised _you. Why do I-" he let out a choked sob.

"_Why do I get off on pretending to be your father figure again?" _America finished in his head. In what he was positive was a perfect copy of England's accent. He stood again and put a hand on either side of his brother's face.

"Don't think, daddy, just feel," he leaned forward to place a kiss on the smaller nation's lips.

England struggled for a moment, and for a fraction of a second America wondered if the daddy thing had actually gone too far, if England had overestimated himself. But if he didn't want it, America reasoned, he'd put up more of a fight. The younger nation was barely holding on and he could have easily pulled away. It was just a show. Good, that meant that he could let go of reality and lose himself in the fantasy of being a boy about to be fucked by his father. His conclusion was further supported when England reached up to wrap his hands around America's waist, so familiar and comforting that America fell into character like a raindrop returning to the ocean.

The older nation let out a sniffle and America felt something wet touch his fingers. He pulled away and cocked his head at England.

"Why are you crying, daddy?" He wiped away the tears.

"I'm sorry, it's just... you're asking for me to destroy something so pure, so innocent..."

"I'm not pure," America said, scowling, "I'm totally corrupt and wicked awesome! I mean, I jerk off like ten times a day thinking about you naked!"

England sighed, "If you're going to fib, at least do so believably, lad."

"I'm not fibbing," America pouted, "I am a tainted individual. Really."

Daddy chuckled but his eyes were still sad, "I'm sure."

"No, come on! Do your worst!"

He shook his head, "Don't tempt me, boy."

"Come on," America said, "I was born to help you, ya know. I wanna please you."

"Don't say such things," England said, "That kiss was a mistake, and I will never, ever-"

America didn't let him finish, but instead pulled him into a sweltering kiss. This time he used tongue. He did it sloppily, though. He had no experience, after all. He whined. Daddy wasn't kissing back at all. Wasn't he doing a good enough job? He was trying his best! America moved his legs so that one of England's was between them and he began to frantically rub himself against the jut of his hip. England moaned but shoved him away.

"Stop it, America," he said sternly.

"But daddy…"

"Look, America. I don't know what's gotten into you, but no matter what it is you need to stop. _We _need to stop.

"But I don't want to!" He threw his arms around England's neck, "I want you to put your cock in me, daddy; I want you to fuck me." Oh God, he had never used dirty talk before, but he really liked it. Especially with the "daddy" bit thrown in.

"America!" He pushed him away harshly, "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing! I just want you!" He cupped daddy right through his pants, "I can feel it in here. It's so big and I want it so bad! I want it stretching me open and filling me with your hot, sticky come!"

"Don't talk like that!"

"Why not? It's true!"

"You're not my America," He took a step backwards, "You can't be."

"But daddy, I am." America came forwards to close the gap, "I am your America. I'm just grown up enough to know that you're sexy and I _need _you to fuck me."

England growled, "You're not going to give up are you?"

"Not until I've got your come dripping off of me and out of me."

"Fine then!" He threw America over his shoulder and the younger nation let out a yelp of surprise. He didn't think England was strong enough to pick him up like that.

The Brit raced up the stairs and threw America onto his bed. To his surprise, daddy grabbed the book from his bedside table. It was an old, loved anthology (mostly of gay porn). America didn't know what the other nation was doing with it.

"I don't know what sort of demon you are, but leave my boy alone!" Oh, it was supposed to be a Bible. Okay, that made sense.

"Daddy," America said, sitting back up, "It really is me. I just… I've grown up, and I need you in a different way now." He smiled at him as sweetly as possible.

"You're lying! Leave America's body, now!" Daddy yelled, brandishing the anthology at him.

America grabbed England's hand and lowered it, "Daddy, it's okay. You love me back. Just accept it and everything will be fine," He leaned forward to kiss him.

England's response was to use his other hand to slap him on the cheek. Hard. America fell back and gingerly touched his cheek.

"A-America," The older nation looked mortified. The sound of the smack had been loud enough that it probably seemed worse than it was. He was about to safeword, America knew it, and then he wouldn't be able to live out this fantasy for decades.

"Daddy," he said, as though he was about to cry, "Why did you hit me?" Hopefully that was enough to let England know he wanted to continue without ruining the mood.

"Oh, my precious baby boy," England leaned down and pulled him tight to his chest. Apparently he understood, "I'm sorry, but you- you-"

"I wasn't possessed." He pulled away, "I really, _really _want this. More than anything. Please, daddy. You always said that you can never say no to me. Well, don't say no to this!" He put the most determined look he had on his face, and England visibly broke. America held his breath, afraid that he had crossed some line again.

But then England shakily exhaled and lay down on the bed. He spread his legs, put his arms over his head and closed his eyes tightly, "Please God, forgive me," he whispered.

"Daddy?"

He shook his head, "You're right. I can't say no. I just can't." Daddy swallowed, "Go ahead. Do whatever you want to do with me."

"But I want you to do things to _me." _

"America I can't. I just _can't." _

And this time the younger nation felt that he meant it. Maybe England would come around with a little bit of… persuasion. He undid the top two buttons on his shirt, along with England's pants. Carefully, he freed his daddy's dick and balls from the confines of his clothes. He was pleased to find that the older nation was already half-hard, so obviously he was enjoying this too.

With a smile on his face, America got down on his hands and knees between daddy's legs. He took one of England's balls into his mouth and suckled it for a while. Then he switched and gave its partner the same treatment. Daddy whined as he pulled away. Good, that meant America was loosening him up. He relaxed his jaw for a moment and took a deep breath before descending again and managing to get his partner's entire sac into his mouth. The older nation let out a pleasure-filled moan and his hands grabbed at America's headboard. America knew he loved this. It had been an instant winner as soon as America realized the possibility and was still one of England's favorite treats. He stopped as soon as his lover was standing at full attention, very red and straining hard. The sac slipped out of mouth with a small pop and America lifted his head.

England was looking down at him, face flushed, eyes dark green with lust, thick eyebrows knitted together. America felt his own pants tighten considerably, but ignored it. He wanted this more to please his daddy than himself, after all.

"America," England breathed, "My baby, my sweet child…"

"It's okay, daddy," America said, kissing his hip, "It's okay."

"Let me please you," he said.

America smiled, both his real self and his character triumphant, "Let me finish pleasing you first."

"But I-"

"Ssh," America shushed.

He looked back down at daddy's fully erect cock and relaxed his throat. And then, quick as a rattlesnake's strike, America swallowed it whole. The older nation cried out and threw his head back. America began sucking and humming in the rhythm he knew drove England crazy. He began to run his tongue along every inch it could reach, focusing on the spots that England would enjoy the most. America's oral fixation had made him a master at blowing British cock. Fuck yeah.

America didn't stop until he felt England about to come down his throat. Well, he couldn't have that now. He let go but continued to pump daddy's straining cock until it sent white hot bursts of come onto his face. He continued pumping England through the entire orgasm, trying to get every drop he could.

Keeping a childish smile on his face, America crawled up the older nation's body, "Did you like that, daddy?"

England sighed, but smiled up at him, "Very much so, my darling. But now it's my turn." He wrapped his arms around America and kissed him. America had just started getting the right rhythm down when England rolled them over.

"Your face is so dirty," he said, expression lustful even though he hadn't recovered from his orgasm yet, "If it didn't look so fetching I would tell you to swallow next time."

America smiled, "I said I wanted you dripping off of me, didn't I?"

England laughed, "Yes you did, my sweet. But here, let me get that for you." He leaned down and began to lick off every drop of himself.

Oh God, that soft tongue felt really, really good. Maybe they'd have to do facials more often. But damn America was hurting. His cock was absolutely straining to get out of his pants and he needed to come so bad.

"Daddy," he whimpered, "Help me."

"What's wrong, America?" the older nation asked, smile fading as he pulled away.

"I hurt down there," America replied, pouting.

Daddy smiled, "I can take care of that for you, my pet."

He slid down America's body and began to work at his pants, pulling both them and his boxers all the way off as soon as they were loose enough to allow it. America let out a sigh of relief. God, that felt so_ good_.

"Could you lift your hips a little bit for me, my dear?" England asked, keeping his head close enough to America's cock that every breath brushed against him.

America nodded and complied. A moment later, he felt a slicked finger enter him. His cock twitched. They were jumping right into it? Was England even hard again? He couldn't tell from his angle. All he knew was that if they were really gonna get to the buttsex part he wanted his clothes off. It would be too hot otherwise. He lifted his hands to his shirt to start unbuttoning his shirt further, but England stopped him.

"Hush, my child, wait. It's not yet time."

"I don't get it, daddy." He pouted again.

England smiled sweetly, "You will, my angel."

"Okay…" America said, giving in to whatever surprise his daddy had in store.

The older man slipped a second finger in and America wriggled around a bit to get comfortable.

"Are you alright?" Daddy asked.

"Yeah," America said, nodding, "It just feels kind of funny when _you're_ doing it. I'm used to it being me."

"Alright. Well, this is going to feel even funnier, but I promise that you'll enjoy it."

America smiled down, "I trust you, daddy."

England let out a small moan at that and closed his eyes. America followed suit and focused instead on the way that those long, thin fingers were preparing him. They were rubbing him in all the right ways, mercilessly harassing those spots that needed it the most, teasing those that didn't need it quite so bad but were still _begging_, and then he wasn't rubbing anymore but stretching. His two fingers worked America open by spreading wider and wider until there was easily room for a third. Oh, oh, _there _it was, just poking at his entrance. And then in it went and it was so-

That wasn't a finger. It was broader, softer, more flexible. It was-

America opened his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows just to check. Yep, England's head was mostly out of sight, beneath his hips. America dropped back down as daddy's tongue swept over that spot. Touches as gentile as daddy's shouldn't have been as arousing as they were. It must have been the precision; every little lick was placed perfectly to be exciting and enticing. Lord, it was too much.

Since daddy was too busy, America lowered his hand to his cock and began to pump it, desperate for release. It came more quickly than he'd expected when England removed his fingers and tongue and sucked _hard. _Alfred couldn't help but scream as he came all over his own thighs and stomach.

England pulled his head away and laughed.

America blushed bright red, "Don't make fun of me!"

Daddy crawled back up his body, "I'm not. It's just… you're so cute, America."

The younger nation blushed even more and looked away, "'M not cute…" he muttered.

With another small laugh, daddy turned America's head back to face him, "Yes you are, darling, but that's perfectly alright," And then they kissed again, tongues dancing lazily so that America could taste the odd mixture of both of them that was in England's mouth.

"Oh, fuck me, daddy," the colony said as they pulled away, batting his eyelashes.

"No," England said.

"What? But I thought-"

Daddy placed a finger on his lips, "I'm going to make love to you, my sweet."

America beamed, "You mean it?"

"Yes… my son."

America felt his heart soar at the answer and reached up to quickly unbutton England's shirt as the older nation undid his tie. Daddy shucked both and went to work on America's shirt, getting all of the buttons undone by the time America had his pants and underwear to his knees. They threw the last remnants of their clothing to the floor and began kissing again. England's lips were searing against his own now, almost as hot as the fingers, three of them finally, that slid inside America. Daddy's talented fingers began rubbing until his colony felt his loins begin to stir again.

Daddy grabbed America's knees and helped to guide them up onto his shoulders. He lined himself up with the younger nation's entrance. But then, right when America was about to get what he had longed for for _so long, _he stopped.

"What is it, daddy?" America asked.

"Are you sure?" He asked, "Chastity is something to be protected, and I… I don't want to do this if you'll regret it later."

"Dad," America said, pulling England closer, "Of course I'm sure. I love you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

"I'm glad," The older nation said, placing a small kiss on America's forehead and then entered him.

America let out a shuddering breath. Hot. It was so hot. Everything was too hot, but especially England's cock inside of him. It was pushing him too. The pressure was good, so good, just like where England was gripping his thighs. Yes, the pressure was good. So was England's face. He was so happy and didn't hide it. America realized that he was smiling too. But England wasn't deep enough. Not quite.

The younger man rolled his hips and then there was friction. Christ, the friction was good. It was better than the heat. Better than the pressure. Even better than England's face. Oh, that was nice, just the right force at the right angle. There it was again. America must have made a noise to let him know he hit the spot. He had to make more so he'd keep doing it.

And that was the last semi-coherent thought that went through America's head. After that it was just the movements and affection, both intense and lovely. Neither he nor England said anything comprehendible from there on out, but they told each other everything that needed to be said with looks, with sensations. With the way England smiled sweetly and kept trying to say "Love you" and America's name as though they were the only words in the world. The way that their fingers traced each other's bodies like they were both blind. The way America kept saying words of encouragement until "Yes" and "please" sounded like completely random noises. Neither of them knew any of that, though. All they knew was that they felt amazing, that they wanted to be with the other forever, and that things were getting tighter, tighter, tighter, until, snap, it was gone and there was just warmth and pleasure.

For a moment they just stared at each other. Then America's eyes slid closed. England pulled out and then allowed the larger man's legs to fall before collapsing sideways next to him. They just lay there for a moment, catching their breath. America opened one eye and saw England smiling his completely-sated smile that America rarely got to see.

"So I guess I don't have to ask if it was good for you too," America said, brushing some of his bangs out of his eyes.

England shook his head, "I was a little bit uncomfortable to start and I didn't know exactly how to react, but then once your mouth was on me it was just you. It was like any other time we role-play, where it was simply a different aspect of you that I got to play with. It was… cute. In an I-am-forever-condemned-to-hell sort of way."

America laughed, "I know what you mean."

"I think we can safely add it to our list of alternate universes."

"Awesome!" America sat up and stretched, "Now, what d'ya say about a bubble bath, flannel pajamas, a Doctor Who marathon, and a pint of ice cream each?"

"Sounds lovely." England said, not moving.

America pursed his lips, "You coming, old timer?"

"In a moment."

"Need me to fetch your cane?"

"Shut it, spoiled brat."

America smiled and offered England a hand, which the older nation grabbed to help him get up. The larger man tugged him a little harder than necessary so that England fell forward into his chest.

"Really now?" England demanded, scowling.

"Love you too, bitchy old man."

"Bumbling oaf," England muttered as he leaned in for one more kiss.


End file.
